The New Hunger Games
by iLuvRockGrl13
Summary: this is the story of Aline Mellark, the 15 year old daughter of Katniss and Peeta! She has now been chosen for the 100th Hunger Games, and there's some twists along the way, including who her fellow tribute is! Let the games be in your favor


Chapter One:

"Aline!" I hear my sister, Angel, cry. I look over, seeing that she is about to shoot at a rabbit, having her bow right this time. She releases the bow, and I hear a shot. The rabbit has been hit. "I did it!" Angel yells happily.

A smile is on my face as I walked up to the rabbit, "Good job, we have lunch now." I check the rabbit, and Angel did great. The bow struck the rabbit's eye, so none of the meat could be wasted by the bow. I take a burlap sack that contains two squirrels and put the rabbit in there, "Maybe the leftovers can go into dinner." I smile at Angel, who ran over to me.

"Awesome!" she says, then looks around, "Maybe I can find some herbs." She darts her head around and tries to look.

"Angel, there's herbs at home. Mom and Dad are probably about to come looking for us," I say, patting my sister's head. Hopefully they aren't though. Mom said that if she ever had to come find us while hunting, she'd have to use her arrows against us. And, I don't ever want that to happen. Who's my mother, you may ask? She's Katniss Everdeen Mellark, one of the two winners of the 74th Hunger Games. The other winner you ask? That would be my father, Peeta Mellark. When they were both sixteen, they braved the Hunger Games together, and won, the first year the rule that two tributes from the same district could win together. And they were also the first winner of District 12 for a long time.

Angel looks around, then back at me, her bright blue eyes shining, "Ok, but, we have to cook tonight. Even though tonight's the reaping." She looked down when she mentions the reaping. Since I'm fifteen, and Angel's only ten, I'll be in the reaping tonight, and Angel will have to watch, standing with Mom and Dad near the stage, along with the other live winners of past Games from our district.

As you should know, every year, two kids between twelve and eighteen, a boy and a girl, and two from each district, are sent to the Capitol to participate in the Hunger Games. It's a game of survival, and the last tribute alive wins. The prizes are great, like plenty of food for you and your family. I've been in the reaping three years now, and have yet to have my name drawn. But, every year, Angel always gets worried since I'm the daughter of two tributes. She has this weird superstition that I have the blood of a perfect tribute, and she has always gets scared when Ellie Trinket, the District 12 escort, who is actually the daughter of the escort my parents had, pulls out the slip of paper that reads the girl tribute's name. But, I've never been called, and I probably won't be, I think. There's tons of other slips in there besides my name, but you never know.

I sigh, and pat Angel's head again, "Don't worry," I say, and smile, "Let's just get home, so I can get ready." I don't want to go to the reaping, but I have to. Or I'd probably get killed.

As we finally reach home, Mom is standing outside; her dark hair pulled back into the signature braid she usually has it in, and is wearing a yellow dress. As she sees me and Angel, she quickly runs to us and hugs us, "You get any kill?" she asks.

I nod and hand her the burlap sack, "Two squirrels and a rabbit," I say with a smile, thinking of a certain delicious dish Mom can make with this kill. My eyes beg her to cook it, and she usually does, on the day of the reaping.

Mom stares at me, then smiles, "I think I know what to make." She pats my back and holds the burlap sack as we go inside, "Girls, get ready while I cook, so we can get to the reaping on time. Don't want it to be like last year, do we?" she gives us a look as we go inside and to the bathroom to wash off the dirt.

Angel and I shake our heads. Last year, we were almost late to the Reaping and Mom and Dad kept worrying that Angel and I could have gotten shoot.

"Good, now go and change," Mom says as the two of us finish, then as Angel and I start walking down the hallway, Mom puts her hand on my shoulder, "Wait, Aline, I have a surprise. Come with me," she says, and leads me down the hall.

Soon, Mom directs me to her and Dad's bedroom, to her closet. I stand there as Mom goes through all the clothes she has, until she finally straightens herself and smiled, hugging some form of material to her chest.

I couldn't help but ask, "Mom, what is that?"

Mom faces me, smiling brightly as she holds up the material. I see it in full view and couldn't help but gasp. The material is turquoise velvet, and it's a dress. A simple dress with a scoop neck, empire waist, and sleeves to the elbows. The waist has gold woven into it. This is probably one of the most beautiful dresses ever. Mom always picks out nice things for me to wear to the reaping. But this is the best. Even better than the rich plum cotton blouse and skirt I wore last year.

"It's something I have always wanted you to wear," she says softly, "When I first saw it while in the market, it reminded me of the dress my mother let me wear when I was sixteen."

When she was sixteen. When she was a tribute. The thoughts run through my head as I gently feel the soft velvet, "Thank you," I say back, and give Mom the biggest hug I have ever given anyone. "It's beautiful," I mutter as I let go.

"I knew you would like it," Mom says, then sniffs the air, "I'm guessing your father is cooking. That's a good sign," she smiles. Dad is a great cook, since he is the son of a baker. One year, for my birthday, he made a great bread of cinnamon, raisins, pecans, and even bits of chocolate. It was the best bread I have ever eaten.

Angel appears suddenly, dressed in a clean white flowing blouse, clean trousers, and normal boots, "Aline, what is that?" her blue eyes are wide in amazement, and a smile is on her face.

I smile, "The dress I'm wearing to the reaping," I say proudly.

"It's so pretty!" says Angel, running closer to see the dress, "Oh," her small fingers feel the velvet, "Gold," she murmurs, running her hands along the waist of the dress.

Mom smiles and looks at Angel, "Let's let Aline get ready, ok?" she says, leading Angel out of the room, "Oh, Aline, there is a pair of black heels in that black box," she points to a box right next to me, "Please, wear them." She then turns and shuts the door behind her.

I take another moment before I change into the dress, feeling the unfamiliar feel of soft velvet against my skin. Then, looking at the black box that sits at my feet, I bent down and pick the box up. I remove the lid, and my eyes become wide. The heels are three inches tall, and they have gold leaves. They are almost as beautiful as the dress. Excitedly, I sit on Mom and Dad's bed and slip the shoes on. Perfect fit. I smile softly and walked out of the room.

I find a mirror, and look at my reflection, and nearly gasp. The dress fits me perfectly, and still was comfortable. It went great with my olive tone skin and dark hair, and I looked leaner with the shoes. Though, as both of my parents say, I don't need to look any leaner.

"Oh Aline," a soft voice says, and I turn to see Mom standing there, a hand to her mouth, "You look amazing." She walks up to me and puts a soft hand on my shoulder, "Let's do your hair."

Mom directs me to the bathroom, where she brushes my hair and puts it in two perfect French braids that go all the way down to my waist, since I have extremely long hair. All the hair is pulled off my face, revealing my dark blue/grey eyes, dark brows that didn't look gross, and my perfectly upturned nose and my full mouth. People say I look like both my parents, and I can see the similarities actually.

"Thanks Mom," I say, then, without even having to sniff, smell food, "Is it ready?" I ask.

Mom nods, "Yeah, and its noon, so we better eat soon." She pats my shoulders, and we both leave the bathroom.


End file.
